


Witch in the Alley

by bonborpaf



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Ba Sing Se, Book 2: Earth, F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2020-05-19 02:36:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19347793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bonborpaf/pseuds/bonborpaf
Summary: Zuko just wants to get these mangoes back to his uncle in one piece. Reposted.





	Witch in the Alley

**Author's Note:**

> I had some requests to post this again. Decided to make a separate account for my occasional...indiscretions. Sorry?

_Shit_.

The little Watertribe girl had been following him since he'd left that accursed mango stand his uncle loved so much. She was obviously trying to be quiet about it and to keep her distance, but at one point Zuko spotted her trying to hide behind a noodle shop sign when he turned around. Citizens of Ba Sing Se didn't usually wear  _blue_.

Stealth obviously wasn't her thing. His dwindling patience convinced him that it was time to teach her that lesson. 

In no time at all, Zuko had the waterbender pinned to the wall of an alley that she just so happened to follow him into. The stupid  _peasant_  had it coming all along. Who follows the enemy of the Avatar into a dark alley, waterbender or not?

"What do you think you're doing?" the girl had the audacity to spit out, attempting and failing to wrench her wrists out of his firm grip. The way they were positioned - his knee lodged between her thighs, chest pressed against her own and pushing her into the rough stone of the alley wall, hands shoved behind her back - guaranteed that she was going nowhere.

He snarled, fists gripping her wrists even more tightly, “I should be asking you the same thing, _waterbender_.” The girl winced, and he pressed harder. She deserved it for somehow finding him in this enormous city, for likely trying to blow his cover, for _getting on his last nerve_.

“My name is Katara, you insensitive Fire Nation _brat_ , and what does it look like I'm doing?” she sneered, still writhing in place.

If Zuko didn't have a conscience, his fury would have pushed him to hurt this little girl, this 'Katara' as she called herself. What gave her the audacity to stand up to him when she was in such a vulnerable position (again, he might add) anyway?

The prince snorted in response, glaring directly into her defiant, blue eyes. “You're too nosy, _Katara_. Look where it's gotten you.”

She finally stopped trying to pull away, much to Zuko's relief. “It's not nosy when the guy I'm following is evil. I know you're up to something, Prince Zuko, and I'll find out exactly what that is.”

He could have laughed right there at the irony of the situation, but he chose to maintain the scowl that dug angry lines into his features and crinkled the skin of his scar. The last time he checked, Zuko wasn't up to much of anything. He was stuck in the lower ring of Ba Sing Se, living the life of a server with no apparent way out in sight.

“I don't know if you've noticed,” he growled low, “but buying mangoes is hardly diabolical.” Suddenly his thin lips stretched into a smirk, earning a small gasp from the waterbender pressed against him. “Unless you expect me to feed the Avatar to death.”

“This isn't some joke!” she practically screeched, attempting again to get away from Zuko. The firebender growled again, this time releasing one of Katara's wrists and using the freed hand to cover her mouth.

“Quiet!” he hissed, peaking over his shoulder to see if anyone had happened to hear them. When no one came running into the alley to see why a young girl was screaming – obviously, the waterbending peasant wasn't important enough to be saved, he thought dryly – Zuko turned his attention back to the girl who was still making incessantly annoying noises against his palm. “You don't know who you're dealing with, and you know _nothing_ about me or my circumstances,” he murmured. Katara had grabbed onto the hand over her mouth, her nails digging into his skin. She finally quieted down, now silently watching her captor through narrowed eyes.

When Zuko eventually moved his hand away from her face, Katara's nails remained buried in his flesh. He didn't flinch.

“I couldn't care less about your 'circumstances.' You're Prince Zuko, you're trying to capture Aang, and I won't let you,” she warned, lips set in a straight line, “and don't you dare think any of your threats will scare me.”

This girl talked way too much.

“You're despicable, cornering a girl and pinning her like this.”

He had to shut her up somehow.

“I swear, I'll keep screaming until someone catches you and you finally get what you deser-”

Zuko wasn't exactly sure how or why the thought crossed his mind, or if he was even thinking at all. He was leaning towards the latter at the moment – Agni knew uncle had reminded him a million times that he was far too impulsive – because his lips were suddenly on Katara's and _she'd finally shut up_.

So maybe this was a good idea after all.

He waited for her to fight, but she seemed to be frozen in shock because she wasn't doing much of anything at all. He decided to fall back, not because his pride was at stake because that would just be ridiculous, but because it had obviously done its job and the girl was mortified.

But then her free hand was shaking and tentatively lacing itself into his cropped hair and she was barely pressing back against his lips, and Zuko let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

So the firebender, always one to put his all into everything he did no matter what the task, slanted his mouth over Katara's and pressed her hips into the wall, hands now firmly gripping her waist. Somehow the girl had picked up on what to do – she was a quick learner, he noted – and molded her soft, full lips against his chapped ones, a small gasp leaking from her throat.

This was probably the strangest situation Zuko had ever gotten himself tangled up in. He was kissing the Avatar's waterbender in an empty alley in the lower ring of Ba Sing Se and she was kissing him back. Katara's leg wrapping around his waist didn't help matters any.

“What – are you doing?” she murmured in between kisses.

Zuko growled, grasping her leg at his waist and pulling her impossibly closer to him. “Shutting you up,” he retorted, biting back a groan as she pulled his lower lip between her teeth. Katara then bit down hard in response, earning a pained yelp from him.

“I hate you,” he rasped against her lips, the coppery taste of blood invading his mouth. He hated Katara more than anything right then. He hated that she was in cahoots with the ever elusive Avatar. He hated that she was a damn good bender – a waterbender nontheless - and that she beat him the last time they fought. He especially hated that her body fit so perfectly against him, that her lips tasted like sweet berries and a hint of salt, that making out with her felt way better than it should.

“You don't kiss people you hate,” she retorted. Zuko couldn't stop the throaty moan that managed to escape, nor could he hold back the urge to roll his hips against hers.

Even through his muddled senses, he could feel her smugness rolling off of her in waves. It pissed him off.

Zuko broke the kiss if only to move his lips elsewhere, to take control of the situation again because he was quickly losing it despite being the one doing the pinning. Katara was more than just a pretty waterbending master, something Zuko noted almost bitterly as he began a trail of open-mouthed kisses along her neck. His lips grazed over the faded blue ribbon of her necklace – he was familiar with it, far more familiar than he ever wanted to be – and let his teeth scrape the skin along the hem of her robes. Katara gripped his hair in tight fists and whimpered softly into his shoulder.

He wanted to taste more of that tan skin. It disgusted him.

So he lifted a hand to the sash around her waist and tugged gently, waiting for her to say something, anything to stop him. Zuko vaguely remembered that anyone could walk in on them at any time, that he didn't even like Katara. But whether it was the adrenaline that came with snogging his mortal enemy’s girl or all the pent up frustration towards his pitiful position in life, Zuko didn't know or care anymore.

He needed to stop, but he didn't want to.

He dug his teeth sharply into her neck when she murmured her consent. Apparently, she was running on the same adrenaline that came with having intimate relations with someone you utterly despised.

Zuko tugged at the white sash, and when it wouldn't come loose after several tries, Katara slapped his hand away and untied it herself. Zuko watched her shrug out of her dress, eyes dilating as more of her smooth skin was revealed to him.

He tasted her lips again, her tongue, her teeth. Zuko was about to kiss and lick his way down the newly revealed expanse of her chest and abdomen, but she tugged roughly at his tunic and mumbled something about how he was wearing too many layers for a Fire Nation prince. He ignored her comment and quickly undid the belt at his waist. There really were too many layers, and he couldn't get out of any of them quickly enough for his liking, but he'd never admit to Katara that she was right. He'd apparently never hear the end of it.

Once Zuko managed to remove his undershirt (they were stripping in an alley, this was crazy, he was crazy for being so turned on by the girl in his arms), he returned to leaving a hot trail of kisses along her collar bone. Katara groaned into his hair.

He had to stop what he was doing and bite her shoulder because Katara had decided that now would be a good time to trail her small, warm hands down his body. Katara's hands were clumsy, but Zuko's skin still tingled and his muscles twitched beneath their ministrations.

Of course, then she started a slow grind against the leg that was still pushed between her thighs and he couldn't hold it in anymore. Zuko emitted a low whine, and of course he was embarrassed by it because no one made him whine like that, especially not Katara, but Zuko could feel how hot she was against his leg even between their layers of clothing. It didn't help that with each roll of her hips, she'd rub up against his aroused flesh, burning hot and hard for her.

He'd never let himself live down the fact that he had a hard on for the Avatar's waterbender, but _Agni_ this felt way too good.

“Fuck,” he gasped, panting now against her lips, soaking in each of her own heavy breaths as he started to build his own rhythm. Zuko's hips moved jerkily against her, desperately almost, an embarrassing need for friction and an edge towards release driving his actions.

The haze in his mind cleared suddenly when he felt hesitant fingers trace a line down the contracting ridges of his abdomen and slip gently into his pants. “What are – you doing?” he growled, grabbing her wrist and stilling his hips. This was the first time he'd gotten a good look at her through all their grinding and kissing. Katara's eyes were half lidded, her swollen lips parted, her breasts were heaving and straining her chest bindings as she panted, and he could tell by the small shifts of her hips that she was itching to keep going.

“I'm trying to touch you.” Zuko rolled his eyes. That much was obvious, and it didn't answer his question. A part of his mind was screaming at him to just let the girl do what she wanted, but he ignored it if just for the moment. “This is what you wanted all along, isn't it?”

“What? Don't pit this on me,” he sneered, squeezing her wrist more tightly. “You're not that special.”

Katara scowled. “Like I'd ever want to be, at least not to you.” Though Zuko held her arm in place, he'd forgotten just how close her hand was to his arousal still, and he nearly choked when she scraped her nails into the hairs just above it. “But you can't deny that _I'm_ responsible for _this_ , stupid prince.”

“I'm a guy,” he ground out through gritted teeth, fighting to keep his hips in place, “it's not that difficult.” Katara snorted, only adding to his frustration. Then, likely trying to prove her point, Katara swiveled her hips one time, twice, then a third and Zuko realized that maybe she was right.

He hated being wrong, but she'd managed to make Zuko lose his sense of control with her thrusting against his leg. So he let go of her arm and Katara took that moment to reach down a little further and wrap her unsteady hand around his length. Zuko's head fell against her shoulder and he muffled a groan against her skin. The frustrating (beautiful, so beautiful) girl was panting and moaning herself, free hand gripping Zuko's shoulder for support and she partook in her own pleasure against Zuko's thigh.

He realized that his hands were being fairly useless, so Zuko decided to give back to the waterbender. Not in any mood for dawdling, he burned a line through her sarashi and ignored their descent to the ground. He cursed and thrust himself into Katara's hand while his own hands palmed her breasts. She was beautiful, dangerously so, and the sounds she made as Zuko pinched the peaked tips of her breasts between his shaky fingers nearly pushed him over the edge.

When she sped up her hand, Zuko thrust harder, her name pouring from his mouth on a lengthy whine and his hands dropped to her gyrating hips. The pleasure was incredible.

Soon enough, Katara's movements became more erratic, yet her hand sped up further, squeezing and pulling at Zuko's length as he continued to press himself into her palm. He could tell she was close to coming undone, as her breath poured out in shorter, shallower gasps and she gripped his shoulder more firmly. Zuko pulled his face from her shoulder and leaned back, scanning her face through narrowed eyes. She was watching him too, eyes wild.

Perfect.

He pressed his lips to hers in an open-mouthed kiss, drowning out her cries as she fell apart against him. “Spirits, Katara,” he panted into her mouth. She'd slowed her hand, probably too weak to continue. Katara had practically collapsed against him. Zuko let her bury her nose into the nape of his neck.

“You're not finished.” It was meant to come across more impatiently than it did, but she seemed so comfortable as he held her. Frustration didn't seem appropriate for the time being. Still, he was throbbing and aching and he needed release soon, very soon. “Katara...”

She sank her teeth into his neck and he hissed. “I'm getting there, your _highness_.” Zuko swallowed any retorts that came to mind.

Katara grasped his length at the base once more and squeezed, forcing a yelp out of the desperate firebender. Now that she'd regained much of her strength, she worked him hard and fast, and Zuko felt himself crumble at the mercy of her swift fingers.

He was already close, and with her gripping him so tightly and his hips thrusting into her slick palm, it didn't take long for Zuko to give in to her ministrations. Katara covered his mouth with her other hand when he shouted her name, and he forced his teeth into her skin as he emptied himself into her fist.

If he didn't have so much pride, Zuko would have collapsed under Katara's weight.

If he didn't have so much pride, Zuko would have held onto this girl in his arms and stayed with her a moment longer.

If only he hadn't returned to his senses so quickly. She was his enemy. She was the Avatar's girl.

No, she was Katara, a waterbending Master, and she’d bested him yet again.

Zuko let her down gently, and after making sure she wouldn't fall, he stooped down to pick up his discarded clothes and backed away. He got a brief glimpse of her wide eyes before turning to face the opposite wall. The rustling of her robes as she dressed herself made his heart sink.

Though uncomfortable, the heavy atmosphere between them was welcome. It was familiar, unlike this strange sensation in his chest.

“That shouldn't have happened.” The words slid out before he could stop himself. “I'm sorry.” Zuko could feel her gaze trained on him. It made him shudder.

“No, it shouldn't have.” Her feet padded softly on the dirt beneath them as she approached him carefully. “You didn't force me into anything, Zuko.”

“It doesn't matter.” His voice caught in his throat when he turned to see Katara fully dressed and standing near him, arms crossed under her chest. He swallowed, throat suddenly dry. Where was his earlier animosity towards her? “It would be best if you stayed away from me.”

“ _Right_ ,” she drawled, hands now on her hips and an eyebrow tilted like he’d just asked her to fly to the moon. “Now that I know you're here in Ba Sing Se, I promise that you won't be able to get rid of me.”

Zuko raised his single eyebrow and frowned at her, which she returned with a smirk. He rolled his eyes and bent down to pick up the bag of mangoes he'd abandoned in the middle of the alley. When he straightened up and glanced at her again, she was still smirking. She was painfully stubborn. This whole situation made that irritatingly clear.

Zuko’s scowl deepened further. He'd regret this, he knew he would, and he could already see his uncle’s giddy expression in response. (Regret was commonplace nowadays, it seemed.)

“Uncle's tea shop is around the corner and down that line of shops we just passed. If you can find it then, uh,” he bit his lip and turned around, “he makes good tea.”

He thought he heard her snort as he walked away.

Oh, she was a witch, indeed.


End file.
